Podric Moon and the Corsican Tyrant

by Barney Broom

  “Go on.”

  Podric tried to keep any excitement out of his voice.

  “All a bit weird.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was some rookie officer and you appeared with that computer man up the road. It’s crazy – you had that great dog of his – charging about all over the ship like a thing possessed, it was.”

  Podric’s head was in a spin. He knew it wasn’t a dream Billy had had. Although only UAR-profiled, the normally latent part of his imagination had been stimulated.

  The Johnsons living in a different part of Drinkwell to Podric, Billy turned off the main road.

  “When you get home, can you write down everything you remember about what happened – anything, however weird you might think it is?”

  “Yeah, reckon I could. You researching dreams then, Pod?”

  “In a way.”

  With the light fading and deep in thought, Podric continued along the road. Approaching Archie’s darkened house, he began walking down the drive when he was set upon. His attacker pinned him against the garage wall.

  “Moon.”

  Podric couldn’t miss Barney’s sinister cadence.

  “Not very bright tonight.”

  “Ha-ha. Very funny. You know if you move, my fingers could paralyse you.”

  Podric made no sign of concern or fear.

  “Out on my Community Service – thought I’d do some, if you get me.”

  Barney laughed.

  “Have a little catch-up – your kindly putting the finger on me.”

  Looking at his own positioned in Podric’s neck, Barney laughed some more before removing his metacarpal weapon.

  “What’s the matter – cat got your tongue or has all that mucking about in your geeky computer world meant you can’t speak?”

  Podric looked at him.

  “Do you feel anything different, strange?”

  “About what? My lovely spell in the Young Offenders Institution – or YOI to us inmates?”

  “You’re right about my being in my computer world – but not mucking about. I’ve met you there – twice.”

  “Unimpressed. What did we talk about, ratting?”

  “Even in the eighteenth century, you were an aggressive bastard.”

  “Ha! Pirate, was I?”

  “Deckhand, but with subversive tendencies.”

  “Yeah, right on.”

  “The kind of guy who drives into a cyclist but pulls a girl out of the river.”

  Barney whipped around on Podric.

  “What do you mean?!”

  “Driving into me and fishing Sally out of the water.”

  “How d’you know I did that?”

  “What, hit me or saved her?”

  Barney grabbed Podric, who continued.

  “So, I’m right. I didn’t know but you being out, I checked you hadn’t gone home. There aren’t that many people living rough in Wendbury.”

  “Look, Moon, I don’t like you, I’ve never liked you and I’m never gonna like you – you and your smart-arse technology shit.”

  Prizing himself from Barney’s grip, Podric looked the bully in the eye.

  “What I want to get is fusion – now and then.”

  “And the fact you always speak gobbledygook. Riddles ain’t in it.”

  “Connecting you with your past. Might just do you some good.”

  “How could you do that?”

  In spite of himself, Barney was interested.

  “If you want to know, you’d better come with me.”

  Without looking back, Podric continued down the drive. Bypassing Archie’s front door, he headed for the Lighthouse.

  ***

  The number of monarchist and enemy prisoners had been considerably depleted as a result of the Terrors of Toulon. Whilst there were rumours of other carriages escaping, only seven of the original group now made their way towards the French capital.

  The road was unpaved and no more than a lane meandering through pastoral France. The coaching inns varied and, like now, their comfort depended on the quality of the hotelier. Some were pleasant – linen sheets for those who could afford them, and decent food; others were squalid in both their accommodation and fodder.

  For several days after their dramatic flight from the city, Archie felt physically and emotionally drained. Sitting in a corner of the carriage, his mind was numbed and his body exhausted. An irritation on his wrist caused him to scratch. Looking down, he studied the tiny scar made by the microchip insertion.

  For the first time in what seemed like an age he thought about his partner. What had happened to his young friend? Where was he? Was he still in the twenty-first century? He hadn’t shown up here but the games creator decided that Podric’s non-appearance wouldn’t deter him. This business of whether these people were real wasn’t easy to solve. He was convinced Cosima was his daughter or her manifestation, and though she was ambivalent in her recognition of him, Archie knew she felt a connection. He needed to explore that.

  “Sir, beggin’ yer pardon – can I ‘ave a word?”

  They were at a wayside inn changing horses. Archie looked around. Barney was bent over Dog.

  “Ought to check his coat, sir, fleas.”

  Under the guise of grooming the wolfhound, the officer and his subordinate began their conversation.

  “There’s somethin’ up, sir. Cos I don’t speak the lingo proper, I dunno what it is exactly, but there’s somethin’ afoot or my name ain’t Barney Sturridge.”

  “What especially is arousing your suspicions?”

  “Well for a start, our coachmen. We’re close like. One speaks a bit of English and I can sort of parlez the vous a little. They all get together of an evening and though I’m not much involved, I’ve a feeling some of the royal folks are plannin’ to make a run for it.”

  “How would you know that from the drivers?”

  “Cos the toffs can’t do it without bribing ‘em. Horses – and maybe creatin’ a distraction or somethin’ when they scarper.”

  “How many to run?”

  “In our carriage, the Duc; in fact, I think he’s the leader.”

  Barney abruptly changed his attitude.

  “That’s a jigger an’ a half, sir. The size of that.”

  He picked a large flea out of Dog’s coat.

  “Sacre bleu! Vous êtes un grand puce!”

  Dugommier was attentive to the two Englishmen’s efforts at cleaning Dog’s coat. Their work was now interrupted by the announcement that fresh horses were ready and the convoy could continue. Knowing how Dog loved to play, Archie broke into a wolfhound howl. The animal rose up on his hind legs in a crazy balletic movement. Awed, Dugommier clapped his hands with delight at the trick. Briefly turning his back on the French general, Archie whispered to Barney.

  “Find out as much as you can.”

  ***

  Lit by a single anglepoise lamp, Podric and Barney sat in shadows in Archie’s lab high up in the Lighthouse. Each had a beer.

  “So, what’s with this other reality then?”

  “Life within a computer game.”

  “That sounds underwhelming. Sort of geeky thing you would do.”

  Reaching into his pocket, Barney pulled out some tablets.

  “So real it feels like it is.”

  “Yeah? And that’s a big deal, is it?”

  “Ha. You could say that.”

  Podric had a swig of beer.

  “You go around bullying people for what you think is fun – why? Part of the reason’s inadequacy, but part of the reason’s you’re bored. Why not have adventures that take you out of yourself – another time, another place? More exciting than running people down or fishing them out of rivers.”

  Taking a couple of
tablets, Barney gulped his beer.

  “Got a headache?”

  “You’re enough to give me one, prat.”

  Podric smiled.

  “Why don’t we see if I am or not? Scared – or don’t you want to try it?”

  Barney scoffed and snorted.

  “What have you got to lose? What else are you doing tonight?”

  “Having another beer.”

  “Help yourself. You know where they are.”

  Getting off his stool, Barney headed for the door.

  “This better be good, Moon, or you’re meat.”

  Hearing the television switched on, Podric sat back thinking fast. Having recently solved more elements of UAR, he still wanted further experimentation. Profiling people as he had been, their appearance was random, but his intention to programme Barney would be a major step. It would mean the school bully would be the first person, other than Archie or himself, to enter UAR as a participant (though at this stage Podric wouldn’t tell Barney that).

  Deciding not to enter with the bully, he tapped a keyboard, activating one of the computer screens full of calculus. To programme Barney would require a designated microchip and taking one from the cabinet drawer, Podric began logging its details.

  The little transponder was already linked to Napoleonic Wars and rather than search around trying to find Archie, he’d simply link Barney’s entry to that of his partner. Ultimate Alternative Reality should do the rest – or so he hoped. If Barney got ‘lost’ that was a bridge Podric would have to cross subsequently. That is, if he could be bothered to try and find the thug. Leaving him roaming around in UAR might be an option. It would certainly solve a lot of problems!

  Whilst deciding to put Barney into alternative reality was an impulsive decision, Podric reckoned the school bully would be more useful in a tight corner than many of his friends – Miles, Norris or even Billy. A light went on in the house. Brodie must be home. A second or two later the internal phone rang. Podric picked up the receiver.

  “Hello.”

  “Podric?”

  “Hi, Alannah.”

  “I noticed the tower alarm had been deactivated. You’re doing some computer work, I expect.”

  Podric smiled to himself.

  “That’s it.”

  “Don’t know whether you knew, but the doctor’s going to be away for a while. He’s up in Wales and taken Dog with him. Very strange.”

  Podric’s brain was in overdrive. Archie gone to Wales. There could only be one reason. Alannah was still talking.

  “I’m having a few days off – making a trip home. The house will be locked, but if you’re working here you’ll only need the Tower. Just make sure it’s all secure when you come and go. Give my love to your mum.”

  Hanging up the house phone, Podric turned back to the bench. Taking a tiny earpiece and the microchip insertion gun, he loaded the little programmed pellet into its chamber.

  Walking into the den he looked down at Barney, who lay sprawled on the sofa. A packet of Eszopiclone sleeping tablets was half out of his pocket – the bully was out to the world.

  Not wasting any time, Podric inserted the aural device into Barney’s ear and took hold of his left wrist, firing the microchip into it.

  Shocked in spasm, the bully half woke from his drugged stupor, but Podric’s grip on his left wrist was vice-like. Never completely coming to, Barney’s body relaxed and he was soon oscitant again.

  Relaxing his grip, Podric studied Barney. His state was different to his previous slumber – not trance-like, but insentient. Because he’d been cybernetically encoded into UAR, logic dictated that he would remain in that condition until appropriately released. Given Archie’s limited knowledge of the system and the fact that Barney wouldn’t know how to deactivate himself, it was inevitable Podric would have to re-enter Ultimate Alternative Reality soon in order to complete his experiment.

  ***

  Dinner at the inn was a strange, artificial affair with Duc Valois being in especially high spirits. Aware the escape attempt was imminent, the joviality of some of the prisoners was too obvious for Archie’s liking.

  The Bourbon prisoners disappeared after supper and with other military men including O’Hara and Dugommier, also drifting off, Archie sat alone at the table. Lighting a cigar, he wandered back to his quarters under the watchful eye of the guards.

  Opening the door of his room, Archie was astounded to see Barney Sturridge lying on his bed! An agitated Dog sat beside him. The boy was insensate.

  Spying a package on top of his portmanteau, Archie opened it. Wrapped inside were several phosphate matches. Certain they weren’t there when he went down to supper, the highly combustible fire sticks had to have been planted. Dog slobbering over Barney, the lackey stirred.

  “Oh, sorry, sir…”

  “Unlike you, Sturridge, asleep on the job.”

  Barney sat up shaking his head from side to side.

  “Oh, my sight’s funny. I’m seeing two different pictures.”

  Having only been mildly interested in Barney’s AWOL nap, Archie was suddenly attentive. Taking Barney’s head, he turned it and peered into his ear. Deep inside was a tiny aural implant, its size no more than a miniscule membrane. Checking Sturridge’s left wrist, the small mark of the microchip insertion set the games creator thinking. What had Podric said about programming? Archie thought he remembered that coming across profiled characters inside the game was random, but this was different. Podric must have deliberately decided Barney should enter Napoleonic Wars as a participant which meant that he would be conscious of being in the games world in the same way they were.

  Why had Podric done that? What was the point? Perhaps he hadn’t told Barney and it was some kind of test? Podric was forever adjusting and finessing his pet creation and maybe putting the bully in like this was part of the process?

  “How are your eyes?”

  Barney looked at him.

  “Alright now. I was just seeing other things as well.”

  “What sort of other things?”

  “I… was half asleep. Can’t say really. Figures, I think.”

  Recalling that double vision occurred by keeping the right finger over the left wrist proved beyond doubt that he’d been programmed. Archie found the knowledge of Podric’s actions oddly comforting.

  “So, this possible escape… have you discovered anything else or does your siesta mean you missed developments?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know, sir.”

  Archie smiled.

  “Then you’d better get along and see what’s happening. I’ll come and find you shortly.”

  After Barney and Dog had gone, Archie paced around the little room. Whoever had planted the combustibles meant him to use them but it was likely to be a trap. What should he do? Ignore the lure or take the risk? Despite the promise he’d made to himself about helping Cosima, Archie knew whichever reality he was alive in, doing nothing wasn’t an option.

  Picking up the sailcloth packet, he extinguished the guttering candle and lifted the door latch. Peering into the empty corridor, Archie slipped out of his room and began moving quietly along the passage. He was keyed up for adventure.

  Arriving at the rear of the main building, Archie came out into a large deserted courtyard. Gingerly, he began working his way around its perimeter. Pausing at an intersecting track, the silence was unbearable. Peering into the darkness, he could just make out the shape of an old wagon nearby.

  Shots rang out. Horses panicked and Archie instinctively dived for the cart. Amidst shouts, hollering and further shooting, he flipped open the pouch and struck one of the matches against a metal wheel rim. The fusée burst brightly into flame.

  Throwing it into a hay load, the straw immediately began to burn. Putting his weight to an axle, Archie got the wagon moving. The cart rol
led into a shed and smashed into the hostelry wall. There was pandemonium as flames shot up the building – horses, guards and elusive figures galloping away into the night. Ducking into shadows, Archie threw the rest of the phosphate sticks into a barn. It also rapidly caught fire before exploding. The yellow and orange blast dancing before his eyes made for a fine image, perfectly coinciding with a club that descended on his cranium. Archie saw stars.

  13

  A Gaming Bird

  Turning into Briony Close, Podric found Catherine’s scooter parked in the little drive. Walking into the house, he took a biscuit from a tin on the kitchen counter and went through to the living room. Amy was sitting on the sofa nursing her cold and Catherine was shuffling some playing cards, entertaining her.

  “Mon bro. Back in the land of the living.”

  A wailing started, followed by a House of Horrors laugh. Amy checked her mobile and the crazy ringtone ceased.

  “Basanti. Hold.”

  Stirring herself, Amy got up and speaking into her phone, wandered out of the room.

  Struggling with his sister’s eccentric behaviour, Podric sat down. Finishing a slick card shuffle, Catherine placed the pack on a side table.

  “I’ve decided I do want to go into your UA — whatever it is.”

  Her grey eyes studied Podric evenly.

  “Why the change of heart?”

  “Thought I’d like to see what all the fuss was about and what some of these experiences you’ve been extolling are really like.”

  Walking over to him, she broke off a bit of the biscuit he was eating and put it in her mouth.

  “Isn’t that what you wanted – me to be a participant in your alternate world? Or do you doubt my spirit of adventure, Podric Moon?”

  “I’ve put Barney in.”

  “Sturridge the thug? I thought he was already inside – in both senses.”

  “He’s been sleeping rough in Wendbury and I’ve just programmed him. You know he fished out Sally.”

  Catherine looked at Podric.

  “No, I did not know that. Are you sure?”

  Podric nodded.

  “Given he deliberately hit you on your bike, that’s very strange behaviour.”